Harry Potter and the Alchemist's Cloak
by Prongsevanonva33
Summary: A whole new set of adventures. Harry has been having dreams of a mysterious cupboard. He can talk to snakes because his father could also do it; not because of Lord Voldemort. Strong due to early exposure to magic due to the mysterious cloak. Pairing? You will tell me!
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter

and the Alchemist's Cloak

Harry has dreams of a mysterious cupboard which seems to call to him for years, he can talk to snakes because his father could also do it; not because of Voldemort. Strong due to early exposure to magic due to the mysterious cloak.

"""PLEASE NOTE"""""" The first chapter is a little dark or violent and i know some will criticize this but I really want you all to feel what the characters are feeling and what really happens. In this story I'll tell you what really happens when you are in these kinds of situations. I won't tell you that death is painless.

SUMMARY-Harry has dreams of a mysterious cupboard which seems to call to him for years, he can talk to snakes because his father could also do it; not because of Voldemort. Strong due to early exposure to magic due to the mysterious cloak.

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

In the night, a stormy night, she closed her eyes...

In the night, a stormy night, away she'd fly...

* * *

Harry fidgeted in his sleep. His tiny fingers reached out to the woman beside him.

"Mama!" he said, wrapping his tiny fingers round the breasts of the woman tightly.

The woman redirected his hands to her stomach and said in a calming tone

"Shhhh...My baby, Mama's right here."

* * *

"Reach out to me son, I'm right here"

Harry looked around and spotted the silver shadow floating in his dad's room.

He grabbed it and yanked but James caught it.

"Now, is not the right time, son."

* * *

"Lily run! He's here! Take Harry and go!" James shouted.

"Where is the blasted cloak?" James shouted amidst the sound of the front door being blasted to smithereens. Splinters got into all over his body. One large sharp wooden piece had got into his throat and was sticking out from the back.

"Ahh...James." Voldemort said stepping in front and hiding the view of James.

"How are you James?" Voldemort clenched and released his fingers as if doing the most disgusting thing "And as I see, you can't help in getting me the Cloak of Power..." He said mentioning his damaged voice box, "... I may as well as..." he pointed his wand at James...

"Avara Kedavra!" Voldemort quickly turned towards the sound and his eyes turned wide as he saw the green curse fired on him. He quickly turned on his foot, missing the spell by inches.

Voldemort's eyes glared, his nostrils flared, and spells flew from his wand mercilessly. Lily Potter was a teacher of Runes at Hogwarts, she was no duellist. The spells caught her in the eye. James Potter could only watch with angry, horrified eyes as his wife's head was blasted to pieces. Gunk of her brains flew in every direction as her lifeless body collapsed in a heap.

"This is what happens to the dirty blooded!" Voldemort said with his hands wiping the blood off his face. He heard scraping behind him. He turned, only to be driven in the chest by a sword.

"AHHH...!" Voldemort screamed as pain like white fire ran through his chest. His vision grew bleary, and for the first time in a long time, he felt afraid. He gazed with horror filled eyes and a scrunched nose at James Potter who was using every ounce of strength to push the sword into him deeper.

But James failed.

He fell backwards, his tongue lolled out of his mouth and the wood snapped in two that perforated his neck.

The sword in Voldemort's body started dissolving, and in no time shiny liquid platinum was flowing down his robes onto the floor. He gasped as he took hold of the table to maintain his balance. For once he thought that the Blood-traitor nearly killed him, but the runic magic on his skin had prevented any harm to his body.

'Should he go back? Should he leave his vanquisher to fate? What competition could a mere child put up in front of him?' Lord Voldemort felt really frightened now, but he still decided to complete the job. His inner conscience screamed to warn him "WHAT IN THE NAME OF PURISM ARE YOU DOING! DAMN THE HALF-BLOOD AND RUN!"

"SILENT YOU BRAT! LORD VOLDEMORT IS NO COWARD." The brave part of his consciousness screamed at the coward part.

"SILENCE!" Lord Voldemort ordered, hence shutting both of them.

With a pulsating and raw head, he balanced his body and walked towards the staircase.

The room looked perfectly normal, as if nothing dreaded had happened within the walls of this very same house.

The room reeked of bliss and calm, as if oblivious to the happenings surrounding it.

Lord Voldemort hated the sight of the room at first glance. Pink and yellow covers ruled the walls. For once Voldemort's senses were ensnared due to the calmness but he regained his hateful self again and searched the room.

The walls. All the walls were covered with runic magic. Magic that radiated calmness and provided security. He could read them all.

'Provide the inhabitants calmness', 'Provide the inhabitants bliss outside of the destruction of magic and life", "Rakshatam", "պաշտպանությունը". Thousands of runes carved on the walls read.

He made his steps slow and cautious over to the crib in the centre of the room. This child will be the reason for his destruction? Heh.

"Avara Kedavra!" Lord Voldemort screamed putting all his hate into the spell. But suddenly, a mist rose from the ground and wrapped itself around the baby and the curse rebounded at the wall beside him.

Voldemort's eyes widened, the cloak to unlimited power was in front of him, there it was, floating just mere inches from his grasp.

He touched it cautiously, as if the cloak was electrocuted. He touched and felt it against his hand and the cloak just felt pulsating and sleek, as if it was alive.

"GRAB IT! GRAB IT!" His greedy part of brain said.

"SHUT UP! WHAT IF IT IS MAGICKED?" The cautious part said.

Voldemort decided to go with the third part. He tried to kill the boy once again. Would the cloak save the boy again? Surely the most powerful cloak didn't serve a mere child. It was meant for the greatest of the greatest.

"AVARA KEDAVRA" He put all his hate in the spell. The calming charms were heavy in this room.

The sleek, watery cloak disappeared out of his hand, appeared in front of the crib and the spell rebounded. This time, in his direction.

Voldemort's senses flared. The throbbing in his temple sharpened, he heard all the sounds around him clearly, and the spell approached him slowly...slowly.

He turned on his heel. But he was too slow, he was moving slowly...slowly.

The runes on his body came in contact with the curse. A hiss and some blood vaporizing,

a blast and his chest open, a char and his lungs burnt, but Voldemort didn't die. He watched in slow motion as his body was destroyed, and he still felt each sensation. He shouted in pure agony, the tendrils of pain multiplied.

And then, he was free.

He floated above his burning ashes. He looked around and thought 'Was he dead?' No he was not. He was a mere spirit. That is what he was.

* * *

"Lit'le Harry slept when we were flying over Bristol. A really calm baby, Headmaster Dumbledore sir. Here,.." Hagrid said caressed the baby with a finger and carefully gave it to the old wizard, wiping a tear off his cheek.

"No, no Hagrid don't cry, it's just a period of some years and you can always meet him again." Headmaster said, taking the baby and looking at him fondly.

"This boy will be famous one day Albus," Minerva said, standing beside him.

"I'm afraid that will likely be true, Minerva. Each and every child in the world would one day know his name." Albus Dumbledore said with a sigh. He kept the small crib on the porch of No. 4.

"I can just wish, and I truly wish that you be happy. Goodbye, Harry Potter."

&&&&&&&&$$$$$ !****

PLEASE READ AND REVIEW. IT GIVES US WRITERS SOME HOPE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER.

_-typedragon33/prongsreader33


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

It's been a long day, without you my friend

And I'll tell you all about it when I'll see you again...

* * *

"OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE! I BEG YOU! COUGH! PLEASE!" Harry screamed.

"ONLY WHEN YOU MAKE IT CLEAR IN YOUR FREAKY MIND THAT YOU WON'T REPEAT THAT FREAKISHNESS!"

" I WON'T COUGH! I SWEAR UNCLE VERNON! PLEASE LET ME OUT! I'M DYING! COUGH!" Harry screamed amidst the hissing of the steam of the water geyser and the scalding hot water running into his bathtub.

The door to the bathroom opened and the steam clouded in the bathroom rushed out like an escaped prisoner, who had just been freed.

Vernon Dursley was a really good man, as his clients and his boss Mr. Grunner knew. He was always ready for any work they told him. "A really hard working man. He would go long way to reach success" they would say.

He was a really bad man, as his employees and every other person except his son and wife knew.

And to Harry Potter, Vernon Dursley was pure bastard.

Vernon walked into the bathroom, with his big and red face, smiling an evil smile.

He walked towards the tub playing with a key in his hands.

"Now what if I flush this key down the toilet and break the geyser so it is on forever?" He asked with a dark and cruel appearance and a sinister smile. Taking satisfaction with the expression of pure horror on Harry's face, he unlocked the chains that bound him into the hot water to the bathtub, and quickly left.

Harry tried to get up, but each and every bone was burned to its core. He staggered out, nearly bashing his head against a wall.

" I will forever remember this Dursley, I won't rest until I see you destroyed." He made a vow which bound his fate.

* * *

"Wha..wha..what is that?" A girl of 11 years, with a pretty face and black hair spoke in an empty classroom. She took a step back.

Harry quickly let go of the pencil and clenched his fists. FUCK! He thought. He turned around and saw the girl, and that instant he knew he was in love.

"What were you doing? How did you make that pencil float in air? Is this some trick?" She asked, perplexed at the feat.

"Okay I'll tell you about it, but only if you promise never to talk about this to anyone." He said with a solemn expression.

She took his hand into hers. She didn't realize but this made Harry like her a lot more.

"Promise." She said.

And that's how Harry told everything to her.

* * *

"My mother told me never to believe in magic. She says that magic is for kids and for people who have lost hope. But now you have shown me it's real, I believe you."

Hearing that the girl believed him made Harry feel a lot better.

Years of abuse and cruelty by Dursleys had made him feel ugly even talking about them. He was not going to tell her about the horrible people he lived with. They were nothing but pricks in his life.

...

* * *

"And by the way," Harry asked "What's your name?" he asked.

"Anne." She said. "Anne Meadows."

* * *

Harry walked the empty halls again. everything seemed black and ! 'Where am I?' he thought. He walked blindly a few steps and noticed a cupboard at the end. A bright light peeped out of the crack of the door, it almost looked haunting to see something so bright in the dark place. It seemed like reaching the cupboard was his destiny.

Harry walked towards it with staggering steps, unable to look as everything around him started turning brighter and took a step and it felt as fluffy as cashmere. He took another step and suddenly fell down a depression in the floor. He took another urgent step towards the vanishing cabinet which was dissolving into the silver light like sugar in water. It became so bright that now he was standing in an abyss of pearly, argent light. He became anxious, the cupboard long gone. He turned around and heard the swoosh of a cloth again. Then came a really cold and damp voice.

 _"Welcome back child. You have done exceptionally well. Levitation through core magic is no easy task and that too for a novice such as you. You did exceptionally well in infuriating the muggle. Your first lesson will be to make others do what you want them to. Always remember child, power of dominance is power greatest above all, power of yielding for survival is more important than dominance."_ the old and raspy voice continued, _"Rash decisions made in times of despair and quest of survival are_ _as foolish as jumping in front of a sword unarmed."_ It continued, _"And never fear Lord Mortem, child. He is an old friend of mine._ " It said and as soon as it finished, Harry fell down the stairs.

* * *

*Thud*Thud*Thud*BANG!* Harry's head bashed against the wooden floor. He got up dizzy.

"PETUNIA GET UP! GET UP! GET DUDLEY AND RUN FOR SAFETY! WE ARE BEING BURGLED!" Vernon Dursley shrieked like a little girl. Harry laughed.

The lights opened and out walked Vernon Dursley with a gun between his crotch and his body shaking from head to toe. If he was any dog right now(he would be a mutt, I think), the gun would surely have been replaced by a tail and you know the rest.

"WHERE ARE YOU! WHERE ARE YOU!" Vernon screamed as if afraid there might be a response from Harry's corner.

"YOU!" Vernon paused, "WHAT THA FUCK ARE YOU DOING! I WILL KILL YOU! I HAVE SUSTAINED YOUR FREAKISHNESS FOR TOO LONG! I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL EACH AND EVERY FREAK LIKE YOU!" He blathered, scared out of his Morgana's wits.

He pointed his gun and took aim, it seemed like a pig trying to poke himself in the eye with a stick. Harry eyes turned wide, the emerald orbs overflowing with fear, the hands and the lithe, ill-nourished body trembling with fear and his chest, heaving up and down as if he had just ran for miles. He shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable and horrible pain.

*BANG!*BANG!*BANG!*BANG!*BANG!*BANG!*

Six shot-gun bullets left the muzzle at unstoppable speed for Harry's chest.

Six holes appeared in Harry's chest at different points. Three around the heart, two around the lungs and one near the neck. But Harry didn't felt anything, the sound of metal falling to the floor was what broke the silence that followed.

 _'And never fear Lord Mortem, child. He is an old friend of mine."_

"YOU USED YOUR FREAKY POWERS AGAIN! YOU FREAK! I'LL KILL YOU WITH MY OW-OWN-OWN HANDS!" He screeched, his face turned to the shade of his angry red mustache.

He grabbed Harry's throat and tried to rip it apart. When his beefy and sweaty hands won't comply, he punched him, hard onto his face and sent him sprawling onto the floor.

"Please...please...no...no..."

Vernon ignored the whimpers of an eleven year old child. The monster in him had taken over. He picked up the telephone from the counter. *SNAP!* Went the cable as he harshly picked it up and aimed for the bloodied face, the face he hated seeing so much. He directed all the years of fear and negativity he had for the freak as he held the telephone with his hands and stretched them far out, to make the most damage, and aimed.

*THUD!*KNOCK!*THUD!*KNOCK!*KNOCK!*

Vernon quickly came to his senses. He carefully put the telephone upside down on the floor and the front door opened. In walked a fat, beefy policeman who had such resemblance to the Dursley's whale-y features that he might as well as be their relative.

His red mustache flew even when he spoke calmly.

"What is going on here, sir?"

"Burglar...yes...yes. Yes he had a gun, sir...NO, I didn't saw his face, sir...No-no-no sir, nothing is stolen, sir...Yes-yes I am perfectly sure, sir...I heard him and confronted him, sir...Yes..He was on the staircase when I heard him sir...Yes...No sir-no-no harm done sir...WHAT!...WHAT!...Oh yes-yes the kid,sir, the kid. Well yeah he got attacked, sir...Oh everything is fine sir...He was just punched sir...Well...ummm...I saw him getting punched sir...Yes...Yes-sir...No-well...Yes sir the lights were off, sir...But he got punched when I turned the lights on...Yes sir... Well umm...Yes!... Oh! I mean NO! The burglar had a mask...Yes.. he had a mask o, sir...Oh-yes sir, the kid will be fine, sir...Yes he gets punched a lot, sir...No-no that's not what I meant sir...No-NO SIR!...NO! SIR!...I don't punch him, sir...no-no, not what you are thinking sir...Oh he gets into a lot of fights sir...Oh sure sir, the boy gets perfect treatment...NO! NO!...I mean no sir, no harm done so no report sir...Yes sir, yes sir I'm perfectly sure,sir...NO REPORT!..Yes...thank you sir...Certainly sir...Yes sir...certainly...Good night, sir."

The policeman exited, turned back to look at Harry who had now managed to stand up again, gave him a smile and a thumbs up and Vernon closed the gate. Harry felt secure when the policeman was around, now the face of Vernon Dursley covered with a darkened expression turned towards him slowly bent and picked up the broken telephone again.

He clenched it tightly between his meaty fingers, and abruptly, the door opened.

It was the same policeman. He suspiciously examined the position Vernon was in, with his arms outstretched with the broken telephone, ready to strike Harry.

Vernon suddenly gave him a make-up smile "Oh-heh-heh! The thief! He broke the telephone! Heh eh eh." He laughed again nervously.

"Whose gun was that?"

"Wha-wha-what g-g-gun, sir?"

"Your neighbors reported six rounds being fired..."

"Oh..Oh that! Oh that would be the burglar, you see that he had this..."

"Oh really, then what is that lying over there,huh?" The policeman said skeptically and walked past him. He petted Harry "You okay kid?" And without a response, he picked up the metal balls.

"He-he probably fired into air or something, you-y'know..." The policeman looked unresponsive at first, because he was checking the ceiling and walls.

"You." He said pointing to Vernon and noticing the shotgun lying on the floor. "Come with me to the station, you have some explanation to do."

* * *

Harry walked the empty corridors again. Same, inky blackness, no sense of direction, something soft, a depression in ground, and then a cabinet straight up ahead, its cracks the only source of light in the dark matrix.

Then, same illumination multiplying to the point it was unbearable and the cabinet was long lost, a raspy and cold voice:

"Well done, child. Courage is very important during times like these. I told you that yielding to your enemy is sometimes the best choice. But you didn't. You didn't beg for your life, child. You didn't plead him to have mercy. Instead, you kept your will defiant, kid. You could have been sent to the other realm, my child. So always remember that, no matter how much they say, that courage, intelligence and power is important to win a war, or felony, cowardship or treason are bad, no matter how much they say that being good is important, but the truth is, that my child, each action holds its importance. Be brave at heart. Be cunning at work. Act like you are none. Now go."it paused" And remember, never be afraid to be cunning and act coward. They will save you when courage has lost and you need time to plan your approach."

Harry woke up again when the dream ended. He had a new lesson from his unknown teacher and this time, he was just mere inches from the staircase.

* * *

"I'll call the police!" Harry warned.

"You freak! You dare live in my house and threaten me?!" Vernon stepped towards Harry again, with his red, meaty hand held out, with a leather belt viced.

Petunia just looked on, with a stone face.

He was just going to whip and slash at him, the belt was mere inches from his face when the window was tapped by something.

*TAP*TAP*TAP*TAP*

Now, the Dursleys were habited to all things normal, and seeing an owl and that too one that's glaring at them with dark red eyes and claws that are threatening to rip them apart through the window is not one of their daily habits.

*TAP!TAP!TAP!TAP!TAP!*

Another set of angry taps from the owl.

"WHAT IS AN OWL DOING AT MY WINDOW!" Vernon shouted like a Labrador-Pomeranian hybrid, with an angry whale face.

Petunia screamed and Dudley stared at them, licking grease off his fingers.

Vernon picked up a vase and threw it at the creature. At the last moment, the owl maneuvered, and vanished.

Vernon looked at the place where the owl, and his window pane had just been, and turned at his wife and child, with a look of triumph.

*SWOOSH!* A screech and brown owl swooped in through the broken window. It fluttered by Petunia who shrieked like a banshee. The owl grew alarmed and landed right onto Dudley's breakfast who started crying, with Vernon's shouts as background music.

Through all this, Harry stared at the turmoil an owl had caused in the Dursley household.

He stifled his laughter when Vernon tried to throw a frying pan at the owl, only to hit it straight onto Dudley's head.

Dudley started crying harder, with Vernon and Petunia running after the owl around him. They threw everything from the table cover to the medicine box at the owl, who just kept dodging each and every enemy projectile. No chance he was not back here any time soon.

*What the hell mothafuckas! What the hell! Stop trying to kill me! Yo mothafuckas, your time's up. Yo boys! I need some help here.*

All these sounded like wild hoots of an owl. But you know what it was.

In no time the breakfast table was filled with 10-16 owls, all hooting and flying around, toying and playing cuts-and-scratches with the Dursleys. Occasionally, one would come at the boy laughing his head off in the corner, but Harry would shoo it away.

After 10 minutes, Vernon, with an angry red face, indistinguishable from his red mustache and a shotgun in his hand, managed to scare all the owls and make them flee for their dear lives.

*Yo boys! Run for yo' life boys! These mothafuckas got kill-sticks! Those tha' killed William and Estral! Get out boys!*

Vernon looked around the room that had once been his house. His eyes landed on his wife, who was stricken beyond measure, lost in her own world. He averted his gaze again, his eyes landed on the freak.

"FREAK! COME HERE AND CLEAN ALL THIS UP! WHAT WAS ALL THAT ABOUT!? LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!" He said pointing towards Dudley, who was back normal and licking his fingers again.

Harry quickly picked up the dishes and went straight to clean them.

While putting the plates into the sink, he noticed something strange, a letter in the plate Dudley was eating from.

He carefully picked it up and wiped grease off from it with a cloth.

TO HARRY JAMES POTTER,

THE CUPBOARD UNDER THE STAIRS... it read.

Harry looked around and carefully put it in his oversized pocket. Oh! He will read this one.

* * *

Long one eh? Thanks for the reviews and votes and follows!

Don't forget to talk about how you found this one!

P.S. I changed my username.

prongsevanova33


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